Jak Cryton

April 23, 2013

A to Z 2013 : TAURIELLO

Jak Cryton

April 23, 2013

(An A to Z 2013 Challenge Entry)

Once again, I deviate from the planned path after a new random idea comes to me. I was going to share a handful of trailers for movies I’m looking forward to this year. I am a movie trailer buff afterall!

Instead, I thought I would share some information I learned about a piece of art I’ve had for some time now. One that has always, for inexplicable reasons, drawn me to it. I will randomly think about it and become curious of its origins. Preferring not to have anything on my walls — they have been bare white for almost seven years (minus the posters and bats placed up for my ex’s son) — this is one piece I wouldn’t object to placing up. I’ve no real idea why I haven’t ever done so.

Goddess

I found this piece of art at a garage sale years ago. I have this odd thing where if something continually draws my attention (usually art) then I end up buying it, if I can afford it. This was one of those pieces. As soon as I saw it I felt a “connection” of sorts, and I wanted it. I avoided it for a bit, walking around checking out the rest of the merchandise. It made no sense for me to buy it, I never hung anything on my walls anymore.

But, like I always do, I bought it. It was cheap. Like $3 cheap, so why the hell not? Did it ever go up on my wall? Nope. I still felt a deep resonance with it, and I began associating unrealistic qualities with the painting. I titled it “Goddess” and thought of her as my Guardian Angel and Muse. I had a dream once about my supposed Guardian Angel and I will perhaps talk about it sometime. Maybe I had this dream close to this period of time? I can’t recall.

Either way, I never hung it up (only partially due to not having a real frame), and I never left it out to inspire any of my writing (which I wasn’t doing at the time anyhow). I guess I figured a Guardian Angel could do their work from the closet. They must be able to, because I’ve had a few close calls.

This weekend I was cleaning out my closet and trying to condense — purge; some changes are coming up that I need to have a bit more available space for — some of my belongings, and I came across this piece again. After so many years, I thought it was time to investigate its origins. It is a print (I assume) and not an original; back is listed as 648. I know close to nothing about art, though, beyond what I fancy and what I don’t.

Frank Tauriello

Source: http://www.leonloard.com/

I made the mistake of misreading the name as Taurielb (the L and O blending close), which caused some initial frustrations. Once figuring out the correct spelling of his last name, though, the frustration didn’t end. I wasn’t able to find him or any pieces of his work. I tried simple descriptions, and looked up multiple sites. I must be getting bad at Google. Once locking down his full name I found only a handful of sites with his art up, most of which being eBay.

I did, however, find a few blog posts and forum threads about him. It seems a handful of people were seeking out information about the artist of works they had found; some describing the same print I have. From here I found postings from Frank’s daughter giving information about the passing of her father, and about a memorial site currently in the works.

His work seems to have been distributed by Leon Loard Commissioned Portraits (though, I saw someone listing another distributor: Donald Art Industries/Company; again I know nothing about art!) and this is what they had to say about the late F. Tauriello:

Although a New York native, Frank Tauriello is known as a noted California portraitist, where he resides and teaches. Born in Rochester, New York, he received a bachelor of Fine Arts degree Cum Laude from Syracuse University, Syracuse, New York. His graduate work spans four years at the Art Students League of New York under Frank J. Reilly. Tauriello spent the next twelve years in New York working in the areas of painting illustrations, murals, and restoration of paintings. Currently, he has put his full attention on portraiture work and the conservation of art.

From 1963 to the present, Tauriello has been a private teacher, demonstrating instructor and juror for the California Art Association and the American Society of Portrait Artists. His portrait subjects vary widely, including children and families, state governors, jurists, business executives, and celebrities such as actor Clint Eastwood and television personality Merv Griffin. He has exhibited in numerous art shows around the country, and has won many local and national awards. Tauriello also holds membership in the Salmagundi Club of New York, National Cowboy Hall of Fame, and is Board Emeritus of The American Society of Portrait Artists.

Strength, dignity, and realism all shine through in a Tauriello portrait. His straightforward yet sensitive style of painting emphasizes his expertise in achieving simplicity in design and composition, along showcasing his intense ability to recreate his subject's persona on canvas.

I nice contrast from the obituary. He was a very talented artist (amazing really, I love what I’ve seen so far and I can’t even accurately describe the connection felt with the one piece I have in my possession) and it’s a shame he has passed. Not because I would have ever sought him out, but that his current art is now all that is left and he will no longer be bringing new creations into the world.

Then again, perhaps he will. By means of those he inspired through his years of work and teaching, his legacy can essentially live on. I hope it does. I’m sure it will. Not even necessarily in terms of painting(s).

“The Goddess” inspires me in more of a spiritual way, but even that is an extension of F. Tauriello’s art. I know his art has also connected and inspired others, as well. So it isn’t even a matter of “hope” or “certainty” of an eventual ripple effect. Just the fact that it has and already is living on.

I should see about getting it properly framed, or at least hanging it up, and see if that Muse factor can’t give me a little nudge.

Do you happen to be familiar with Frank Tauriello and his art? Do you have any favorite artists? What artists or pieces of art inspire you?

Jak Cryton

April 22, 2013

A to Z : SCARE TACTICS

Jak Cryton

April 22, 2013

(An A to Z 2013 Challenge Entry)

Lately I’ve been writing about some of my encounters with ghosts, haunted houses, and/or just creepy places (and situations) in general. Then I read about some rather elaborate pranks/lies some fellow bloggers have endured from family and friends. It reminded me of a time I blended both of these elements together.

Having grown up with three brothers, sometimes the sibling rivalry ran deep. What better way to pass the time than to argue, wrestle, and scare the hell out of one another? What was my mother thinking having four boys? The odds were definitely not in her favor.

Now, we never really had any major pranks pulled on one another another to any large extent. Sometimes you hear of families where this is the case, and they each try to “up” the last to get even. I’ve always been fond of pranks — sometimes initiating them now and again — but usually kept mine around obvious dates like April Fools Day. They sometimes lose flare that day, being most expect it, unless you do it right.

Run, Run As Fast As You Can

Back in the day my pranks were more cruel, in the sense I would try to scare people. I think attempting to scare one another is just something many people enjoy doing. People obviously like to be scared on some bizzare level, otherwise horror movies/novels/etc would hold no place in our entertainment field.

One of my most memorable attempts at this occurred way back at the Stanchfield House (site of those hauntings) when a teenager. During the Summer, I was sometimes assigned to watch my brothers while my stepfather and mother were at work. Mainly, I was to watch the youngest of the bunch. At one point our youngest brother fell asleep in his room, and I had an idea come to mind.

I would scare the hell out of him.

That’s about it. Sounds pretty solid right? I thought so too! So how would I accomplish this? I mean... our youngest brother was maybe eight or so years old. It isn’t really hard to scare a kid. But, sometimes you just want to do it right.

So the prep work included getting some fake blood (from Halloween), and applying it to my other two brothers and a fake plastic cleaver. I believe I applied a handful to myself, as well, for some added effect. Then there was the positioning of the “bodies”. One brother was sprawled out on the stairs (our bedrooms were on the second floor), while the other was placed in the doorway; half in the room, half in the hallway.

Once the scene was set, I put on my game face and got to work. I jumped on the bed screaming — channeling Christian Bale’s Batman before its time — waking our brother up. I was hovering over him with the bloody cleaver in one hand, and told him I had killed his brothers. There was a little resistance at first, even though he was clearly afraid — eyes wide — still fighting off the grogginess of his deep slumber.

I told him I was a demon and had possessed his brother’s body. He said my name and I responded with, “Jak isn’t here anymore. He is dead like the others!” I think when he got out of bed and saw one of our brothers laying on the ground it started to register more. I grabbed him and said, “You’re going to be next. You better run.” Paused and then yelled, “RUN!”

And run he did. He took off out of the room, into the hall, down the stairs — past the “bodies” of his brothers, now deceased — and then the front screen door slammed. Then he was gone. My brothers got up and we all laughed and had a good time with it.

At this point, I don’t recall if we ever thought or wondered about what exactly to do next. Maybe we thought he would just eventually come home. What I do know is that our mother was on her way back home from work and picked up our crying, traumatized little brother who was still making his way down the dirt road.

He was crying and telling her how everyone was dead. Needless to say, she was pissed off — more at the fact he was walking down the country road all alone — and laid into us when she got home. More so me, being I was the oldest and on babysitting duty. Thankfully, I wasn’t grounded or punished much. I can’t recall how our youngest brother reacted after the fact, but I’d imagine he was really upset as well. It blew over fast, though.

I thought our mother even laughed a bit about it soon after. We certainly all do now, years later. It makes for a good story from time to time at family gatherings and the holidays.

Have you ever pulled a prank on (or really scared) anyone? If so, what? Ever have one done to you? If so, what?

Jak Cryton

April 20, 2013

A to Z 2013 : RANDOM REMEMBRANCES

(An A to Z 2013 Challenge Entry)

T-minus 3 hours and counting. I best get this down while the gettin’ is good. As I type, Winter has decided it isn’t finished toying with me yet. The snow is keeping me from Best Buy and my friends, but I won’t let it stop me from writing! When part of your job descriptions includes tending to the property, Winter becomes a very sketchy season (leaving me homebound often). At least the shoveling is a good workout.

Working out is what this post was originally meant to be about, but I think I will touch on that later. I was thinking of my post HAUNTINGS the other night, and thought it sucked I didn’t have time to add another story. So, I thought this would be a good spot to interject it.

The Black Tower

The earlier stories I gave about paranormal activity all took place in the Stanchfield House I lived in. When you live out in the country, with properties covering vast acres of land, you tend to find a handful of nifty places to explore. Some fun and exciting, others dangerous and scary. For example, the next house down from us had been abandoned for who knows how long. My brother, friends, and I would venture around that property often.

The first time there, we were hesitant to go inside. When looking in the windows we could see a mattress and leftover cans/wrappers of food and drink, in an otherwise gutted room. Naturally we took this as a clear indication someone was possibly inhabiting the house. When reporting back, we were told it best to stay away from the property — trespassing and all — but that it was empty.

Telling a child to stay away from something they are fascinated by is like leaving a cupcake in front of a starving kid and telling them not to eat it while you then go about your business elsewhere; leaving the two of them alone. Someone always dies. Not really, but in this case the house was like our cupcake.

When we built up the courage, we returned to the property, entered the house, and scanned the property. There was plenty to see. The house itself was completely empty with exception of those items, but the land — grossly unattended — held some gems. There as a silo, a shack, and I had stumbled upon a bomb shelter. That is what we determined it likely was (I guess to this day I don’t know). The entrance was caved in some, but we investigated. Actually, I sent my little brother in to investigate first. In case there was a bear, or something, in there.

Everything checked out and I eventually dubbed it: The Black Tower. Now, this may have been a Wheel of Time reference. I just know it didn’t make sense, being it was an underground shelter. No one cared, though. All our friends (my friends) loved it! It became our secret hideout. One day me and some friends even managed to shove a couch — one we drove past that someone was getting rid of for free and we thought: that’s perfect! — down into the bowels of that shelter. That took a few hours involving digging out the entrance more. Once we got it in there, though, we celebrated with some ice-cold be... Kool-Aid... We celebrated with Kool-Aid.

To be honest, I wouldn’t go into The Black Tower alone. The entire property gave me the creeps. I think had we hung around there more we would have eventually encountered something menacing. Eventually, the house and shed/shacks were burned down, but The Black Tower remained. I imagine it is still there today.

While nothing paranormal happened there, it's those kinds of discoveries that fueled our adventures even further. In doing so, I came to find a location I found even creepier. In fact, with the occurrences and feelings I described at my Stanchfield House, this place gave off that same “evil” negative vibe.

The Hand House

So, our explorations expanded well beyond any close proximity of our house. One Summer, while walking down our dirt road we saw a driveway, but it was overgrown in between the tracks. Know what I mean? We decided to follow it (I believe I was again with my brother... this lack of memory is killing me). We happened upon another abandoned house. This one was larger than our neighboring one, and it looked a lot scarier. This may have been amplified because it was set back in the woods.

What I can’t recall (I’d have to ask my brother in hopes he was the one with me at the time) is if we entered the house at all. It was during the day, and — as you well know — that kind of thing really plays a huge role on determining such choices. What I do remember (skipping ahead a few months into Winter) is when some friends and I decided it would be fun to visit the house in the middle of the night. We believed it could be haunted and wanted to find out. There was a large group planned for this outing, but only two friends had arrived while the others said they wouldn’t be able to make it over until a lot later in the evening.

The three of us decided to do what any normal courageous trio in our position would do: we went alone. We geared up, grabbed a flashlight, and began the long trek to this new abandoned house. Along the way, we would hide in the ditch if seeing any incoming vehicles (for some reason this was a fun game we always played, whether in town or out in the country. It probably looked very suspicious). Once reaching our destination we began to transverse the unplowed driveway.

At this point in Winter there had been heavy snowfall, and the weather — being so cold — made it hard so you could essentially walk on it. You may sink in here or there, but overall it wasn’t too bad. As I said, it was set back into the woods; silent and ominous. Once it came into view, the closer we got the more afraid I became. That overbearing feeling of malevolence. The doorless entryway its gaping mouth welcoming us inside. The night was crisp, the moon sailed high, what better snack than three Vanilla Ice lovin’ punks given their pseudo courage a try?

Then we were upon it. Face to face, the entryway just feet ahead. One of my friends stopped and began to have second thoughts. I was definitely on board with that! It wasn’t too late to turn back, besides it was a really decrepit house and could be too dangerous in the dark. But our other friend... he wasn’t having any of it. He was more of the skeptic type and he had just come all the way out to this house; he was going in.

So, he took the lead and we lined up behind him and began to advance towards the house. Then the flashlight began to flicker some. We paused, waiting, and it stopped. Nervous laughs were shared and the advance began anew. Three feet from the entrance... Two... The flashlight began flickering again. At this point, my friend and I were good to go, but the other was persistent. He slapped the flashlight and it regained its full strength.

Great.

One foot away, nothing but our footfalls scrunching in the snow betraying the silence. The voice in my head telling me: this is a bad idea. We came to the doorway and our friend scanned the inside with the light. Obviously there was nothing, but it was an excuse to pause again. Then he took a step past the threshold, the light began to flicker again, and we all stopped cold. He slapped it like before and it seemed it was going to work, but then it went dead.

We were alone in the entrance to this house in the moonlit night. And that was all it took, because then we were running. All of us, skeptic included.

Unfortunately for me I have always been a bit more heavier set. Regardless of having decent leg strength from biking everywhere, I was still behind the others. I would be the first to die. Worse? That hard snow you could walk on? It must not have a fat boy running protection clause, because each step left me knee-deep in snow.

Another thing I learned that night, is when you are falling knee-deep into hard snow... it cracks. Not sure how best to explain this, but it seems to literally crack like a crevice tearing open during an earthquake or something. With each pounding step, the snow would crack and release a deep crackling sound that filled the dead of night (along with maybe our screams, but we won't talk about that). It sounded like you were being chased. I was going to fucken die by god knows what.

Dear non-existent diary, I hate Twinkies. They have killed me.

To be honest, all I could think of was getting the hell out of dodge. Eventually we made it back to the main road and booked it even farther, until we could no longer run. Half way back to my place we laughed about it all. How we were a bunch of chicken-shits. A car was spotted and we barreled into the ditch, once again enjoying ourselves.

Once in the ditch the flashlight suddenly turned on and we all just stared at it. If it wasn’t my ex step-father’s I would have been fine just leaving it there in the ditch for eternity.

Our other friends showed up and we told them about everything that had happened, so we planned to venture there again the next day; during the day. They tried hard to convince us to go back that evening, but our courage was tapped out.

When we went back in the daylight to investigate, we discovered handprints all along the walls leading up the staircase to the second story. These were little kids handprints and it gives me the chills just thinking about it. I assume they were made with paint, but who knows. I try not to think about it.

This is why I dubbed it: The Hand House

The name stuck ever since.

It was a lot less scary during the day and with ten people, but I never went back at night again. Back again, period, for that matter. Some of my friends did after watching The Blair Witch Project in which a similar house (with similar handprints) was featured. They brought some of our female friends out there to scare the hell out of them after the movie. Mission accomplished.

I waited a while before watching the movie. A few years actually. The scene still gets to me, because of how similar it is to that house (which I heard was eventually burned down sometime after I moved out of the Stanchfield House). I can’t help but wonder what the history of the house was. Can’t help but wonder what we may have experienced had we decided to stay that night in complete darkness.

I can’t help but wonder why the fuck I never stopped eating Twinkies.

Here is a clip featuring the house in The Blair Witch Project. By now, if having interest, I’m sure you’ve seen it. If not, this is towards the end of the movie and if you’ve no interest in spoilers just avoid:

Please... there will be no questions at this time... Thank you :)

Featured In I, Jak

Dec 30, 2022

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Hello, Friend

It’s been a long while. I briefly discuss some of this year’s shortcomings, and in doing so, find it’s just more of the same.

Then I attempt to give a more positive spin…

Nov 5, 2021

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Extra Life Game Day 2021

Extra Life Game Day 2021 has arrived! It’s Year 8 for myself and I am looking forward to once again raise money for Gillette Children’s Specialty Healthcare. Team Cryton Crusaders is ready (kind of) for the annual fundraising event involving a 24-Hour Gaming Marathon! I kept last year’s fun, but likely impossible Milestone to reach!

Learn more about the challenge where my team and I play games and heal kids!

Featured

Dec 12, 2017

102 | TRAILER TUESDAY | 102

Welcome to Trailer Tuesday, a weekly Generation Jak blog series where a multitude of movie, video game, and sometimes even book trailers are highlighted for your viewing pleasure!

This week's Featured Trailers:
Jessica Jones Season 2 - Teaser Trailer | Ready Player One | Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom | Alita: Battle Angel | Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse - Teaser Trailer

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101 | TRAILER TUESDAY | 101

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A to Z 2017 [FLASH FICTION]: REFLECTIONS

This year's A to Z Challenge is over, but how did I fare with another attempt at producing Flash Fiction and Poetry throughout it all? Did I run into the same complications as last year?

Join me as I reflect on the challenge and the thoughts about my continued participation on Dreams in the Shade of Ink.

Apr 30, 2017

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A to Z 2017: ZACHARIAH

Dreams in the Shade of Ink is back with more Flash Fiction for the A to Z Challenge 2017! Last year my segments throughout April painted a puzzled tapestry of prose and I hope to provide some new, entertaining stories that you'll enjoy!

Come share in my inky dreams full of fiction, sprinkled with poetry!

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Join me as I discuss the ups and downs of this year's Magic Mixer theme.

A to Z 2017: ZENDIKAR

This year for the A to Z Challenge 2017 Meta MTG presents the Magic Mixer! What's that mean? Your guess is as good as mine... What I do know, however, is that this year's theme is obviously still all about Magic: The Gathering!

Join me as I attempt to highlight a different Magic set each day of the challenge in different ways, from pack openings to discussions about a set's storyline and/or mechanics!

A to Z 2013 : TAURIELLO

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